The Tenth
by Seanthi
Summary: Well, the title says it all. Ráva is exiled from Varnon, he runs into trouble on his way to Imladris, gets help from a certain Ranger and a Magician. I suck at writing summaries, just give this a chance!


If it gets a bit wrong grammatically I give my humble apologizes; I'm not a native English speaking. And I have been writing on a formal English essay so this will probably end up formal as well.  
  
Some names will be confusing both to myself and to the poor soul who reads this… …don't worry though I do have a enlgish map over Middle Earth, under here… somewhere… … … … … … … … … … … nope, didn't find it.  
  
Mental memo; strangle annoying roommate who probably is guilty as charged! (She probably hid it under her madras, wonder if she likes really cold water…)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from LOTR, some one else does. THOUGH I WISH!! Especially a certain ranger and an elf and maybe an elf lord…  
  
But I do own Rávanén! At least almost…  
  
Maybe I'm wrong but now I'm right! Understood! According to me Gandalf and Aragorn is looking for poor old Gollum before Gandalf goes to the Shire and celebrate Bilbos' birthday.  
  
  
  
  
  
According to a rather unknown legend there was an Elven king: Varnon, the Guardian, who guarded the trapped darkness in the country to the East. He was one of them, who imprisoned the evil elves in dark mines, by that he helped to create the orcs.  
  
For that his family was bound to forever guard the dwellings of the orc, his great great-grandson Varnonén is the ruling king of today.  
  
He once had five sons and daughters, two, of the three that was there, died in the battle at Barad-Dûr, one was so badly wounded by darkness he choose death in front of life. His two remaining children, Rávanén and Aleryn was surprised by a party of orcs who slain Aleryn and wounded the enraged Rávanén.  
  
As soon as he could mount a horse he left the house of Varnonén and pursued the orcs who had killed his brother. And when the elves of the royal guard reached the prince the found him torturing the only remaining orc slowly to its death.  
  
For the oldest of the elves that knew the hidden history of the orcs it was extremely cruel and they ordered for Rávanéns arrest…  
  
  
  
Rávanén stood in front of his father, who was holding his longbow he had received long ago in that very hall. His arms were tied, as a proof that what he had done was something he probably would have done again if he could. That he could not be trusted.  
  
His killing of an orc would perhaps banish him. Rávanén had always deserved his name; the Wild, the orc had slain his brother and the elfs kill had not been swift.  
  
"My lord, even a foul, wretched thing as an orc deserve more mercy than what he gave it," one of the other lords said. Rávanén stood there and listened to their never-ending squabble. His father was looking at him, pity in his eyes, as he spoke:  
  
"The time in darkness was to much for my firstborn and my youngest son lies dead, killed by orcs! My only remaining child stand here at this court today, you can not force me to condemn my lone lasting child and heir!"  
  
"He can not sit on the throne, he has lost the light within! This council will coerce with the fact that he shall be either imprisoned or exiled from the land of Varnon!"  
  
'Imprisonment! Exiled!' the two words echoed through Rávanéns mind, both were terrifying for him. Elves did not survive imprisonment long; he would last shorter than most, or being forced from his home… that would be a harsh fate.  
  
"I will take my stance until the morning," Rávanéns father hastily left the room, the council nodded to the guards to take the young lord to the prison once again.  
  
When the door closed behind him Rávanén felt if he had been pierced with a sword through his heart. He knew that the council was right, he had to leave, the cell was richly illuminated and yet he felt so dire weak.  
  
"My prince," a female voice called out as the door opened.  
  
"Aalean! My friend!" Rávanén called out struggling to his feet. "What brings you here? My father?" The fair and beautiful elf took Rávanéns hand to sooth him as she said:  
  
"He is judging whether or not he should keep you here in this cell or to send you away."  
  
"So it is settled, if I stay here I will with no doubt die…" Ráva said, the tone of grief and tiredness in his voice so shredding that Aalean felt if she soon would take to tears. "But if I take to the roads…"  
  
"…You will with no doubt survive," Aalean finished.  
  
"If only I could find some rest, I have not rested since Aleryn was killed."  
  
Aalean turned to the guard who stood in the door.  
  
"Could you give me my purse?" He fetched it hurriedly and Aalean took forth a small bottle of silver. "Here, drink, it will render you to sleep."  
  
Ráva received it and he drank it swiftly, the taste was bitter but he could feel that Aalean had been right as his head felt very heavy and he was overwhelmed by sleep.  
  
  
  
"The oldest son of your sister will be the heir to the throne, my lord. The lineage will not be broken," Aalean said after her return to the kings' chamber.  
  
"No it will not. But how can I rule wisely for my son? If he remains imprisoned he will die and if he is banished, where will he go? To Lorién? Mirkwood? Rivendell?"  
  
"Yes, to Rivendell, my cousin Elrond might be able to help him to find the light again, and even though he will never rule Varnon, he will be alive. He has always known that he would not rule these lands. He does not desire it."  
  
"You know the secret beneath."  
  
"Yes, I have served Rávanén for a very long time. The light in Ráva was fading already then."  
  
"I know, and it is a acid chalice I emptied when I noticed. Ráva will need maps, provisions and a horse."  
  
"I'll arrange it to the morning."  
  
"The council of Varnon has spoken; prince Rávanén shall be ether exiled or imprisoned!"  
  
"The king of Varnon speaks that his son Rávanén, son of Varnonén will be exiled from Varnon for the remaining of his life! He has until four days to have left the domains of Varnon! But tonight he will oversee the new heir swear his alliance to the throne." Ráva bowed to his father and his keeper unleashed him. He oversaw the ceremony and sat down to dine for the last time at his fathers' table.  
  
His older cousin Anarleg came up to him, Anarleg was the one the council had chosen to heir. The two were very contrasting, Anarleg had dark hair and dark eyes, and the younger Ráva was much fairer than anyone in Varnon. Anarleg carried a small silver star on his forehead and was dressed in the typical and formal colors of blue and white.  
  
"I hope, cousin, that you bare no grudge to me?"  
  
"Why should I, you are older than me. I prefer you in front of Lemla. Her heart does not lay with my father, yours does."  
  
"Maybe so, but she has her own family to think about."  
  
Ráva started to untangle the silver ornament from his fair hair; he had carried on his head since he had become the crown prince.  
  
"I would say that this belong to you now, Anarleg, prince of Varnon!" Ráva said as he placed it on his slighter longer friends head. "I will carry it no longer. I was not born to rule this country," the former prince said.  
  
"No, you are born to do greater things, cousin," Anarleg said as he placed his silver star on Rávas forehead. "I hope that your life will be prosperous and that you travel safe on the roads to Rivendell."  
  
"I do not doubt that we will meet again, but that will not be here in Varnon, it will be at a great battle for the survival of everyone…" Ráva said dooming. Than he seemed to wake up from the gloomy state and continued; "But to that moment, loved cousin and father I will se you no more."  
  
Aalean came in with Rávas belongings, his bow and quiver, the long dagger and the large snow-white stallion. Ráva sat up and turned the horse with no further actions and bolted away. He had three days to leave Varnon; he intended to leave it in one. Hríve paces was longer than any horse Ráva had ever ridden upon, and much faster.  
  
  
  
Two days later. Rhûn  
  
Rávanén sat near the lake and waited for the morning to come. Hríve lay sleeping in the grass not far away. He had studied the maps and new that he was to go through Mirkwood and through a passage in the Misty Mountains. He had cross two rivers but he was not too concerned, Hríve was a very powerful animal and he had passed worse things with him. He started to chew on a lembas, it would be the only one he would eat that day. He held a distant hope that he would not encounter anyone until he was at Rivendell. He rose and walked to the water, kneed and filled his cupped hands with water and was about to drink it when he saw his reflection; his smooth striking face, he had always wandered why no one had seen what he truly was.  
  
"Hríve!" the horse sighed deeply and rose, shook his beautiful coat then walked to Ráva, who laughing placed his bags on the horses' crop. "Are you ready to run fast, my friend?" the horse only snorted as it bolted off.  
  
Dark eyes looked as the elf crossed the Running River…  
  
  
  
Ráva felt that he was watched, and as he scanned the surroundings he saw glimpses of something very fast, and he sensed, very wicked. The elf wondered if he would be able to outrun this or if it catches him, would he be able to stand a chance against it? He urged Hríve to go faster, the stud felt Rávas growing uneasiness and fastened his long strides. Ráva fought against the rising fear; he did not now why the creature followed him, of he only knew that maybe it would be easier if he...  
  
Suddenly Hríve stopped dead throwing his non-expecting rider to fly over the neck of his mount. The elf did not have the time to brace himself for the fall and struck the ground head first, the impact nearly rendered him into unconsciousness and as he struggled to his feet he saw what had scared Hríve.  
  
A gigantic spider crawled across the trail coming against him, Rávanén took his bow in hand but his hands could not stop shivering. Hríve came back galloping, attempting to run over the beast, Ráva yelled at the horse who immediately broke of its' run. The monster seemed surprised that his possible lunch was cooperating with a animal, it had turned its' view to Hríve one blink to much.  
  
The elf gained control over his hands and fired two silvery arrows into the eyes of the monster, but that didn't stop its speed much. Ráva shot the monster several times and ass he hit its belly, the shriek of misfortune from the spider made Ráva think that it might retreat. Hríve was still very close and the stud rose on his hind legs and yelled defiantly towards the monster.  
  
The Elven-prince smiled tiredly as the beast in front of him collapsed into a heap, he turned around and started to walk against his horse. He touched his aching forehead with his hand; he saw that there was little blood. Unexpectedly he felt something entangle his legs and he was tugged to the ground; the creature was still alive! The spiders' gluey web was around his legs and he was pulled against the creature! He pulled his dagger and felt how it was towed from his hand; his bow lay several meters, which swiftly became, more from him. He suddenly saw the large fangs of the spider and the dark fluid that covered them. He covered his eyes with his arm as the fangs buried themselves in his right leg, then he felt no more.  
  
The ranger Strider and Gandalf the Grey was returning from an unaccomplished mission as they saw a snow-white horse nearing from a long distance.  
  
"That's to be a elfish horse, Gandalf!" Strider said rather enthusiastic. He always seemed to think about his beloved Arwen. But as the animal came closer they could see that it carried no rider. The large horse came to a stop and Aragorn eyed it's equipment; a dark blue clothe lay on its back and the bit-less bridle was beautifully worked.  
  
"It is indeed a elfish horse, but where is the rider?" Gandalf said and looked in the direction the stallion had come from. The horse slipped away from Aragorn as he tried to grip its' reins and started to trot in the same bearing it came from. "And a very wise animal he is too. He is showing us the way to his rider, I believe."  
  
  
  
Aragorn bewildered looked at the entrapped elf, cobweb was all over the elfs' body, and Aragorn carried his bow in hand.  
  
"How are we to help him? And where is the spider?"  
  
"Oh, it is here but it wont challenge me," Gandalf said rather reasonable. "I think it won't be to hard just cutting the string of, carefully though, so you wont hurt her." Aragorn pulled his dagger and carefully cut the webs of, he saw the blue and white clothes and the nearly white hair. The elfs' right calf was a bloodied mess.  
  
"The poison will reel of in a few hours or so, he'll be nauseous for a while. I am surprised that an elf has been; well, careless enough to go this near of the spiders," Gandalf said, rather satisfied with himself.  
  
"This isn't a Mirkwood elf, Gandalf. They don't wear these colors."  
  
"That I know; this is probably an elf of Varnon. A country far away to the east, and if I'm not wrong this is even a royalty. Hurry, we'll bind that wound later, right now he is in no immediate danger, his heart beats very slowly."  
  
Aragorn lifted the motion less elf and hoisted him in front of Gandalf; the ranger then gathered all the belongings he could find before he mounted and followed the magician. The large white horse trotted as close as it could to Gandalf and his master and friend, Aragorn made sure that they that they held their pace for mile from the spiders' nest before Gandalf held his horse.  
  
"Is he awakening?" Aragorn asked as the magician slid to the ground holding Rávas limp body.  
  
"Yes, his heart is hastening. The wound needs to be dressed, Athelas, Aragorn. It will aid against infection."  
  
The ranger found the herb on a forest meadow and took it back to the waiting magician who now was talking with the elf, who struggled to sit up.  
  
"It will do you no good, my dear elf, to struggle to this amount," Gandalf said as he lay his hand on the others shoulder. The elfs' eyes turned to him; deep blue, and then they were brown and then shifting back to blue again. "Please, calm down, the spiders are far away, your horse friend came to us. I am Gandalf or Mithrandir if you prefer, and he who is approaching us is Aragorn or Strider. We intend to help you, not to harm you," Gandalf said with that gentle voice, Aragorn could remember since he was a child. The elf appeared to allay, and he spoke:  
  
"I am Rávanén, son of Varnonén. I thank you for saving my life and I hope that I will be able to repay that debt."  
  
  
  
The company rested there for the night, neither Gandalf nor Aragorn wished to press the wounded elf. But the following morning, after breakfast, the elf seemed to come around and limped around the camp, leaning heavily on his horse.  
  
"I think these belongs to you," Strider said as he pointed at the things he had collected. Ráva smiled gratefully as he sheathed his long dagger and knocked his bow and tested the bowstring.  
  
"The spider surprised me, the beasts that live in Varnon is different than them here. Though I will have time to learn to know them," Ráva said as he tied his quiver onto his back. "May I ask where you two are going?"  
  
"I'm heading for the west, Rivendell first and then I'm going to meet with some of my ranger-friends."  
  
"For myself, I'm going to the Shire and celebrate a friends birthday," Gandalf said as he puffed on his pipe.  
  
"May I travel with you as far as Rivendell? I am to visit my uncle, lord Elrond there."  
  
"Then the two of us are almost relatives, he is my adoptive father!" Aragorn said rather gladly. Ráva shook his head.  
  
"I have not met Elrond, the last time he visited was before I was even born, my older sister, Alduva, talked over him, she fought beside lord Elrond in the War against Sauron and his Damned Ring. My brother and sister; Ranner and Yáranén died there at the foot of Mount Doom."  
  
"Many lost their lives but even more survived because of their sacrifices," Gandalf said, solemnly. "Alas, the Ring was not destroyed. It corrupted Isildur, he could not throw it into the fires of Mount Doom!"  
  
Aragorn sighed deeply when Gandalf talked over the ring and the king who failed to destroy it.  
  
Ráva and his two companions rode along the old Forest road through Mirkwood and they met none. The journey took them three full days; Ráva could feel Hríves' growing impatience, as he couldn't stretch out in the speeds he preferred. Every night as they stopped for sleep Ráva could sense that they where being watched and he couldn't wait to get out of the forest.  
  
Aragorn observed the elf as he was training with his horse one morning, Ráva seemed to be a frightful rider, one he didn't want to meet. The horse was one of the most beautiful horses he had ever laid eyes on; its' pelt was never grassed even if the horse had been keeling around it still was snow-white, its' unshod hooves didn't carry one single crack. Indeed it was a beautiful animal. Rávas leg was healing but he still limped, he wasn't as singing as the elves Aragorn knew, his potential suspicions were confirmed the second night the elf was traveling with them; around Arwen and his friend Legolas he had always seen a shining around at night, around Ráva, there where non.  
  
  
  
Ráva marveled at the beautiful buildings and the elf lord that came walking down the stairs; he could not be anyone but Elrond. His dark hair and his eyes had striking resemblance with Rávas late mother.  
  
"Lord Elrond," Ráva said and bowed, Aragorn walked to embrace his loved Arwen.  
  
"Welcome to Rivendell, Rávanén, son of Varnonén," Elrond said as he touched Rávas' arm. "Arwen and Aragorn will show you to a room, I will come to your chamber later. I must speak with Mithrandir," Elrond said turning his gaze against the magician.  
  
"Come, cousin," the elegant elf-maid said, her free hand outstretched for him. "We'll show you around here in Rivendell."  
  
Ráva loved Rivendell, from the moment he saw it; in Varnon there were nearly only plains, the few forests and mountains were very far from the city. The water was cleaner here; unfouled by orcs, by the creatures elves themselves had created. Ráva noticed that his thought very often wandered to his actions, the heritage from his fathers and that he questioned how many elves knew of this, the darkest of secrets.  
  
"Your mind wanders long ways, Ráva, why?" Arwen asked, a slight of concern in her voice.  
  
"I…" was all he said, looking into the whirling waters. Arwen felt how Aragorn yanked her hand; she understood that Ráva wished some privacy.  
  
When Ráva, several hours later, returned to his new chamber Gandalf was sitting in a chair, smoking his pipe and with a thick book on the table in front of him.  
  
"Oh, there you are my dear Ráva!" he gladly exclaimed, closing the book. "I have been meaning to speak with you." Ráva glanced at the wizard with a puzzled look. "About the orcs, your exile. Oh yes! I know about it! And so does your uncle, your friend Aalean sent a message, telling him everything. You did what you did, and personally I would say that the orc probably deserved it, but dear Ráva, you had too much hatred. Vengeance is a bad thing, it consumes one, in you it even quenched the light within!" Ráva sank down in the window, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on them. "I know that they tried to help you in Varnon, but to them it was very hard…"  
  
"I know Mithrandir, but they could not help me, especially not after what was shown to me. I no longer have any pride, and I feel no hope."  
  
"Then it is that your uncle will help you with, your poise! Well, Ráva, I wouldn't say that hope is out, not in any way! The hour is growing late and I have a birthday party to attend!" the wise man said as he rose and intended to leave the room. "Ráva, read the book that lays on the table, it is very interesting!"  
  
Ráva looked after Gandalf who had grabbed his staff, wandered of through the hall gladly singing.  
  
Elrond understood that his young relative needed to talk and learn new ways. It wouldn't be easy, but Elrond knew that they could make it if he persisted. He saw his daughter care for him as well, Elrond saw them walk very often through the beauty and how they rode out on short tours in the summer sun. Ráva studied long into the nights, the light in his room was almost always lit. Ellara and Arwen trained fighting with them, Ráva was both learning and teaching, he even laughed, even though the first times weakly.  
  
Elrond sat in the Hall of Fire observing his family, though they were not all accounted for; Aragorn and his two sons was in the north, fighting the evil. His daughter was sitting next to her cousin, her dark hair braided, her calm voice singing in a duet with her cousin. He had his hair completely loose; he hadn't adopted the habit to braid it if he wasn't exercising. The hobbit Bilbo had arrived a while after his 111 birthday, gladly singing on some tune. Ráva and Bilbo enjoyed each other's company and Ráva very often sat in the chamber where Bilbo sat writing over his adventures.  
  
His confidence had grown during the time he had been there, he was stronger now and he shimmered very weakly, but the light was there.  
  
Elrond watched his nephew when he noticed something about Rávas' eyes, they changed color, blue to brown and then back again, he remember his sister had mentioned that her daughter Alduva had inherit it from her but she had never mentioned that her son had, in fact he knew that the eye phenomena only was inherited mother to daughter. The elf in front of him wasn't Ráva it was the elf who actually had fought on his side during the War against Sauron! Alduva, the one who defiantly had stood up against Sauron and been wounded by his foul hand!  
  
  
  
Elrond was sitting on his chamber, thinking about his kin, the elf who wasn't a man and yet she was no woman, he had sensed that Ráva was special but not in this way. Alduva had indeed died, her spirit wasn't in Ráva, and Elrond didn't know how he was supposed to react.  
  
A knock on the door alerted him,  
  
"Lord Elrond, there is a messenger approaching Rivendell!"  
  
"Wherefrom?"  
  
"I think it arrives from Varnon, he carries their colors!"  
  
"Have you informed Lord Rávanén?" Elrond asked as he hastily walked through the corridors.  
  
"Yes my lord. Strangely, he did not seem surprised."  
  
Elrond saw how Ráva was about to mount his horse and ride to meet the messenger.  
  
"Alduva! Wait!" he shouted, Ráva turned his horse and looked at Elrond with wondering eyes. The messenger came galloping through the gates, the horse was foamed with sweat and as the rider slowly started to fall to the ground Ráva slid of his horse, his hair flowing freely, catching the elf female before she hit the ground.  
  
"Prince Rávanén!" she whispered, attempting to regain her balance.  
  
"Aalean!" Elrond said recognizing his cousin, he kneeled next to the couple. She was grasping a large package.  
  
"The orcs, they left Varnonén, the king fell with a arrow through his heart. The orcs where helped by an evil wizard and a Nazgûl was there," the words came out broken and she started to cry. "Thy father knew that the battle was doomed to fail!"  
  
"Yet, it was a battle he had to fight. It was not in vein," Ráva said with a distant voice, holding Aaleans hand, tears glimmering in his eyes.  
  
"Varnonén wished for you to have these," Aalean said tears running freely down her face. It was the sword and the beautifully worked bow that his father always had carried as long as Ráva could remember. Ráva received them from Aaleans hands, and then he quickly turned carrying his legacy in shivering hands.  
  
  
  
Elrond called on Ráva in his chamber later that night, he was sitting in a chair in front of the dark fireplace, the bow and the sword still in hand.  
  
"Come in, uncle," he said, grief hanging in his voice.  
  
"Alduva,"  
  
"Alduva is gone, my lord, Ráva succeeded her. She is I but I am not she. A strange relation, but it proved to be necessary. She was going mad, I was the solution," he said and rested his head against his hand.  
  
"Alduva grieved that she had been touched by Sauron?"  
  
"Yes, and no matter what the magicians or wise elves tried to do, her sadness grew bitterer and stronger for every day that passed. Until one day she threw herself from a cliff. She disappeared then and I arrived."  
  
Elrond looked at his sisters' child, tears were flowing from his eyes.  
  
"Vengeance is not for you, Alduva. These are bad tidings of what that lays a head."  
  
"A war against Sauron, the war that should have ended for over five thousand years ago?!" Ráva suddenly screamed. "If it had not been for Isildurs' weak heart it would have been over!" Ráva stood up, a fierce light lit in his eyes. "I can never forget what happened on the slopes of Mount Doom! When 'he' touched me, my inner was hit by such evil that I cannot… breath. I died already then, Ráva helped me to live, and when I was him I was so much stronger!" her head sank.  
  
"You ARE the strongest girl I have ever known Alduva, if my Arwen was half as strong as you she would be able to beat half of the dark ones on her own," Elrond said placing his hand under Alduvas chin, lifting it gently, looking into her eyes. "If you need Ráva to live he will stay, but if you want to become Alduva again I will help you, with all my heart," Elrond continued and embraced his now crying niece.  
  
Ráva didn't remember much of the following few days, he remembered Elrond, sitting at his bedside making him drink something with a bitter taste. A fever was running in his blood, that much he felt and it was confusing him. Bilbo came to visit him every single day and the day Ráva got up from the bed he said that his nephew, young Frodo Baggins, would come soon to Rivendell.  
  
"I look forward to meet him, Bilbo," Ráva said as they sat down on a bench, the white haired hobbit was a little confused, which had come with his age.  
  
"I finished the book while you were sick," he said wriggling.  
  
"Indeed? I thought that you would…" Ráva started and then rose quickly as he heard his uncle call his name.  
  
"Ráva! I need your help!" Elrond called pacing out on the tiled ground below the balcony Ráva and Bilbo sat on.  
  
"Yes my lord, Bilbo, we will continue this later," he answered and jumped down and landed next to Elrond. "My lord?"  
  
"Come," Elrond said and walked down against the stables. "Aragorn and the four hobbits are in danger, Gandalf has not been able to meet them, the have five of the Ring Wraiths hunting them. I am about to send out riders to find them, Arwen wanted me to ask you to join them."  
  
"Of course I'll go, has Hríve been collected from the clearing?"  
  
"Yes, I assumed that you would accept," Elrond said as a groom came walking with the stud. Arwen came riding on Asfaloth,  
  
"Cousin! You will ride against the Southern Hills! I am riding against the Eastern Road!"  
  
"Ai, Arwen! Be careful!"  
  
Bilbo stood on the balcony and saw Arwen and Ráva ride out of Imladris and several other riders accompanying them; they rode hastily for the ford of Rivendell. Elrond stood and gazed after them, his blue eyes fixed at the riders.  
  
"They will be alright, won't they, lord Elrond?" Bilbo asked.  
  
"I hope so."  
  
Hríves long steps were crossing the land swiftly. Ráva tuned all his senses onto one thing, the moldy, tingly feeling of evil. And when he and Arwen parted from each other he hadn't felt it, but late that night he felt queasy and a sensation of pain from the north. He turned Hríve on the spot and hurried him towards the origin.  
  
Meanwhile…  
  
"Frodo! No!" Sam yelled as he was swatted away from Frodo, Merry and Pippin stood in front of Frodo, Pippin squeezed his eyes together and waited for the strong blow, and indeed it came.  
  
Frodo stumbled backwards, dropped his swords and, with a shaking hand, he put the ring on his finger. The dark clad figures in front of him seemed to throw their shadows of and appeared instead in a horrid reality, the former king was a blue apparition, with sword and dagger in his hands, moved on Frodo who stumbled backwards but when he came to the wall of the old fort he fell. The pale king seemed to ask for the ring, but Frodo could not give it to him. The wraith then thrust his dagger into Frodos left shoulder, then like through water and intense cold and pain he saw how Strider came running with fire torches in his hands. Pushing the dark king away from Frodo, with fire, he stood there and forced the shadows away with light, he had a remaining torch in his hand and as the last lingering wraith stood there he turned fast and threw it swirling towards the ghosts face, it scrambled away, its black hood on fire.  
  
"Gandalf!" Frodo more or less moaned.  
  
"This is a Morgûl blade," Strider said as he disgusted threw the dagger away. And then he heaved the semi-conscious Frodo over his shoulder, and begged silently; 'I hope that he lasts to Rivendell.'  
  
Sam and the two other hobbits hurried after Strider, who carried Frodo over his left shoulder and held a torch in the other.  
  
When they reached the three stonified trolls Strider laid Frodo and summoned Sam.  
  
"Do you know of the herb Athelas? Kingsfoil?" Strider asked.  
  
"O, yes, it's a weed?"  
  
"It may help slow the poison."  
  
Strider and Sam went out searching the ground franticly to find Athelas, and when Striders light fell on the flowers he sighed in relief, he pulled his dagger and cut the flowers of, when he felt the ice-cold sensation of metal under his chin.  
  
"What is this, a ranger, caught of his guard?" a soft female voice said teasingly. 'Arwen,' the thought became a relief and Strider rose and turned to kiss his love, she warmly returned it  
  
*He won't last long,* Arwen said on elfish, as Aragorn put some of the Athelas on the wound, he then lifted Frodos limp body.  
  
*I will take him to your father,* Aragorn started.  
  
*No! I will ride, I am a faster rider. The ring wraiths do not scare me,* she said as she mounted Asfaloth. Strider positioned Frodo in front of Arwen in the saddle.  
  
*My brave love,* Strider whispered as he kissed her. *They are coming! Do not look back!*  
  
"Noro lim, Asfaloth. Noro lim!"  
  
"What are you doing?! Those things are still out there!" Sam screamed angrily at Strider, who looked after the disappearing rider.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ráva was riding along the river heading for the ford of Rivendell, Hríve was constantly asking for more speed and Ráva let his horse run as fast as it could master. He only begged that they didn't fall or that Hríve bursted himself, and that they wouldn't be to late.  
  
They crossed the river hastily, Hríve swam across, the whirling waters was throwing them backwards but horse was stubborn enough to continue it's swim. Ráva made sure when they had crossed the river that his horse walked instead of galloped, otherwise his horse risked to hurt it muscles, when he allowed Hríve to run again the night had turned to morning.  
  
He could still feel the throbbing sensation of evil, and it still came from north, Ráva could see the ford of Rivendell! He looked towards the forest in the west, and he saw his cousin ride hard hunted by the Nazgûls. She rode down in to Bruîns wild water and pulled her sword, her words was nearly lost in the wind;  
  
"me an claim im!"  
  
The Nazgûls rode down into the water, and then all of a sudden the water rose and flushed the dark riders away. Ráva could see the horses fight for their lives, but their heads kept on being drawn below the surface, he was nearly there. His cousin was kneeling on the ground talking in a soft, pleading voice to the person who laid on the ground in front of her.  
  
"Let the light which has graced me, let it pass to him."  
  
"Arwen!" Ráva called out sliding of his horse in movement. She turned and looked at him, her eyes was filled with tears. "Is he?"  
  
"No, but he is weakening," she answered. Ráva lifted the tired Arwen and placed her on Hríves back, then he lifted Frodos still form and gave him to her.  
  
"Go, I will wait for Aragorn, go!" he said. She smiled wearily against him and let Hríve speed of. "Let Hríve go when you come to Rivendell!"  
  
Ráva took Asfaloths reins and crossed the now normal river, and walked against the Forest, the exhausted horse was trembling.  
  
The Ring Wraiths was no longer a tension in Rávas head, he walked a few hours with the horse, then he started to run, Hríve caught up with them a little while later.  
  
And then he saw Aragorns tall appearance.  
  
"Aragorn!" he said and ran a bit faster, he caught his cousins love and clapped his shoulders.  
  
"Arwen?" he asked seeing Asfaloth.  
  
*She has reached Rivendell, she and the hobbit,* Ráva answered. "We'll ride back instead of walking, I can take two of the hobbits on Hríve. You take the remaining in front of you on Asfaloth."  
  
Pippin and Merry was soon sitting on Hríves back, Bill the pony was trotting behind them.  
  
Gandalf the Grey had arrived on the strong back of Gwaihadir, the lord of the eagles. Soon after his arrival he hurried to Elronds chamber, scrambling down the corridors in near anger.  
  
"He has betrayed us!" Elrond looked at Gandalf in surprise.  
  
"Saruman? This is not good."  
  
"Is it safe?"  
  
"Yes, Frodo came here two days ago, but he is wounded."  
  
"He used the Ring…" it wasn't even a question.  
  
"Yes, he did. The wraiths caught up with them at Weathertop. I have summoned a Council here in Rivendell."  
  
"May I see Frodo?"  
  
"Yes, he is in here, Bilbo and Sam is with him, probably Ráva as well."  
  
Sam was clutching Frodos cold hand, Bilbo was holding the other, and Ráva sat on the balustrade, his left knee drawn up to his chest. He turned his thoughtful haze to the newcomers, smiled when he saw that it was Gandalf.  
  
"Gandalf!" Bilbo exclaimed and rose and embraced his friend.  
  
"Bilbo, dear friend. How is he?"  
  
"His hand isn't as cold as it was yesterday."  
  
"Ráva, may I have a word with you?" Elrond asked and Ráva rose to leave the room.  
  
"Ráva," Bilbo said.  
  
"Yes?" Ráva said turning his violet eyes to the hobbit.  
  
"Thank you for sitting with us."  
  
"It does not need thanks, Bilbo," Ráva smiled and walked out of the room.  
  
"You have a message from home, I have summoned a council here in Rivendell, your king request that you and Aalean will sit on Varnons' seats.  
  
"Indeed?" Ráva answered. "The council concerning it. The great evil."  
  
"Yes, the time of peace is over."  
  
"There was never any peace, uncle."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The Council of Rivendell.  
  
"We have gathered here to council over the situation in Middle Earth. The Ring, Frodo Baggins," Elrond said and showed Frodo to put it on a stonetable, its horrifying song started to grind in Rávas ears.  
  
One of the Mans looked at the ring balled his hand and whispered;  
  
"So it's true!" There was a light in his blue eyes, Ráva wasn't too sure that he liked. "It's a Gift!" Boromir said and rose. "Why not use this against the dark lord?" Aragorn looked at him in horrification.  
  
"You can not wield it! None of us can!" he said with near anger in his voice.  
  
"And what would a ranger know of this?"  
  
Legolas of the Mirkwood elves rose quickly and snapped:  
  
"He is nor mere ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn! You owe him your allegiance!"  
  
"Is this Isuldurs Heir?" the other man said as he heard the days joke.  
  
"And the heir to Gondors Throne!" the elfprince continued. Aragorn rose and motioned to the elf with his hand.  
  
*Sit down, Legolas, please*  
  
The red haired man looked at Aragorn with challenge in his eyes:  
  
"Gondor has no king, Gondor needs no King." And then he returned to his seat.  
  
"Aragorn is right, we cannot use it," Gandalf said.  
  
"We have but one choice, the Ring must be destroyed!" Elrond said.  
  
"Well, then, what are we waiting for!" the dwarf next to Ráva said, stood up swirling his axe and loomed to the ring and brought his axe down upon the Ring. The dwarf was thrown backwards into the laps of his surprised kin. Elrond hadn't even flinched:  
  
"The Ring can not be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloîn, by any craft we here possess. It was made in the fiery dwells of Mount Doom, and only there can it bee unmade. One of you here must cast it into the flames."  
  
"One does not simply walk into Mordor, there is evil there which does not sleep, and it black gates is guarded with more than orcs. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousands of men you could do this," Boromir said looking astonished at the mere thought. "It is folly."  
  
"Have you heard none of what lord Elrond has said!? The Ring must be destroyed!" Legolas nearly yelled as he rose from his chair. Gimli stood as well:  
  
"And you think that you are supposed to do it?"  
  
"What if we fail?! What happens when Sauron reclaims what was his?" Boromir said.  
  
"I'll be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli continued, not caring for what Boromir had said.  
  
All elves and dwarfes jumped to there feet including Ráva and Aalean, Ráva could not hear what the persons around him said because the singing of the Ring came louder, but in all of this he heard Frodo.  
  
"I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mordor!" All turned their heads towards the hobbit, amazed at his courage. "Though, I do not know the way." Gandalf turned and put his hand on Frodos shoulder.  
  
"I will help you carry this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long it is yours to bear."  
  
Aragorn walked to Frodos and kneeled in front of him:  
  
"If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword, Frodo Baggins."  
  
"And my bow," Legolas said and joined them.  
  
"And my axe!"  
  
"My shield," Ráva said and smiled against Frodo.  
  
"If this is the will of Gondor, I will see it made."  
  
"Mister Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!" Sam shrieked as he rushed to his friends' side.  
  
"No, indeed it seems nearly impossible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," Elrond teased with a faint smile.  
  
"Hey we're coming too!" Elrond looked around as expecting more hobbits turning up as Pippin and Merry joined the Eight.  
  
"Besides," Pippin started. "You need intelligent people for this quest… mission… thing."  
  
"Well, that rules you out Pip!" Merry exclaimed.  
  
"Ten companions," Elrond said and surveyed the group, A Istari, a dwarf, two man, two elves and four hobbits.  
  
"You will be the Fellowship of the Ring!" 


End file.
